


like every other vice

by Melokho



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Broken Bones, Casual cruelty, Eye Trauma, M/M, Object Penetration, Tooth Trauma, Wound Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22489912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melokho/pseuds/Melokho
Summary: Ardyn has an opportunity, and takes it.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Ignis Scientia, Ignis Scientia/Magitek Troopers
Kudos: 17
Collections: Fics from the Basement, Unofficial FFA Unanon Collection





	like every other vice

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Your preferred shade of Ardyn"

One person’s lack of impulse control was another man’s willingness to brazenly indulge their spontaneity. More a commitment to living by the whims of one’s own nature than a deep character flaw.

Not that Ardyn Izunia cared overly about the distinction.

Here he was at the Altar of the Tidemother, in the middle of finishing this second act of making Noctis’ life a resemblance of the hell he has been through; with a corpse, a persistent thirst for blood, and another subject to direct his murderous intent at.

“None of that!” Ardyn kicked the ring out of his reach and made sure the troop of magitek soldiers had him still pinned down.

Now Ignis Scientia, he was a stubborn one, and far more loyal to that prince of his than Ardyn had planned for. The fool! Imbecile! Thrice damned, blockheaded prat! _Hurt him!_ It annoyed him, angered him, and seeing him struggle against the forces holding him down did nothing to cool down his temper.

The knife he used to end the Lady Lunafreya was once again in Ardyn hand — _hurt him, hurt hurt min, hurt min, KILL him!_

But he stalled mid-step. No, after the first death a second would lose its meaning. He shouldn’t tarnish it like that. There’s only so much pain and guilt to go around, if it can’t be shared. 

“What will it be, Noctis, between mourning your fiancée and lamenting the fate about to befall your most faithful companion,” the mockery might have sadly been lost on Ignis, who had already renewed his struggle after the first half of the sentence, “can you do both of them justice?”

He gave the order.

MTs, they were supposed to be efficient in every way, and they were in the way they repositioned themselves and their prey, but there were things they lacked. Like self-awareness, an understanding of anything but the most basic cause and effect, or a human’s penchant for either kindness or cruelty. 

And cocks. They also didn’t have cocks.

What they did have was fingers, weapons, and apparently a surprising amount of resourcefulness to go with the hardwired drive to follow through on commands given to them. 

Within moments one of the MTs had ripped a good chunk out of the back of Ignis’ pants and unceremoniously shoved a thumb into his now exposed hole.

“What—?” Ignis’ eyes went comically wide and he was wrecked by a full-body shiver.

Ardyn felt a similar shiver run down his back, even if for a very different reason.

Ignis was given no pause. With every second there were more fingers, deeper penetration, total escalation.

“Stop them!” 

Why he thought that was a helpful thing to say? Ardyn had to wonder.

He gave up soon after anyway. The MTs, in search of more holes to fill, prodded none too gently at his lips. He clenched his mouth shut, but they didn’t waste much time trying to pry his jaw open once their metal-clad hands fail to find entrance. A few kicks to the head and he was spitting blood and broken teeth. And since the foot was already there, Ardyn supposed, it was rammed down Ignis’ throat.

“You were saying?”

Five digits from at least three different MTs filled Ignis’ arse by now, and he idly mused if they would maybe get a whole fist in there. That was when the first one got it in its head that using the butt of a rifle made a good substitute. Ignis grunted and spasmed, accompanied by heavy breathing, clearly in a lot of pain. And still he fought, desperately struggling against the hold, eyes shining with as of yet unshed tears and a wild frenzy.

Ardyn could see it coming — the way his arms bend, exposed and vulnerable — and he was about to say something clever about it, when the crack of bones robbed him of the opportunity. 

“Now look what you made them do,” he tutted.

The bone’s splintered end stuck out in a gory mess out of Ignis’ lower arm. As they poked at the wound, it gave the MTs a new idea. All the colour drained from Ignis when they fucked a finger in and out of the open wound. Ardyn commended him for holding onto his consciousness under what could only be described as torture.

Satisfying as it was to see Ignis contorted in agony, it did grow a bit repetitive and Ardyn was easily bored. Not bored enough to finish this just yet, but he turned away to check on Ravus and Noctis. 

Both still out for the count. Pity. 

He wanted to see Noctis’ reaction to everything that happened here, but it seemed unlikely he would get the chance.

Ardyn picked up the ring of the Lucii that rolled off to the side, placed it in Noctis’ hand and securely closed his fingers around it. “Hurry and find me in Gralea, when you wake up, little prince! I’ll throw you a grand welcome party.”

A shot fired, drawing Ardyn’s attention. He almost expected Noct’s sharpshooter friend to have finally made his way to the altar, but no, just an MT shooting a hole into Ignis’ abdomen and sticking the barrel of the gun into the fresh injury. Whatever did Verstael teach them about sex? Nevermind, what a silly question.

With renewed interest Ardyn strolled back over to where the MTs kept ravaging Ignis. Ignis’ shirt suffered the same faith as his trousers, with scraps ripped out of it here and there, when the MTs in their effort to find or create more holes for them to fuck once again prove their utter lack of understanding that just fully undressing a person could be a thing.

Fascinating what came out of a single command given to them.

Ignis looked about ready to pass out any second now but suddenly found the energy to fight back again. At first Ardyn was confused as to what caused it just now, then he noticed the bloody fingers hovering near Ignis’ face, coming ever closer to his eyes.

Oh. Oooh!

“Hold!”

As one they stopped moving, looking comically like someone pressed pause on a video recording. Ardyn pushed aside the MTs that were in his way and crouched down next to Ignis. Cupping his face he menacingly stroked his thumbs over Ignis’ cheekbones.

“I never particularly liked green as a colour,” he said conversationally.

Ardyn pushed his thumbs up, and up, and then inwards, and the eyeballs underneath his fingers popped with a sickening squelch.


End file.
